ART FUCK WORK PARTY [FMMF]

ART FUCK WORK PARTY

The Letter That Came With the Painting:

Hi Peter!!! I wanted to surprise you for your birthday! Surprise! I taped this letter to your present, so hopefully you saw the “read me first!” before you unwrapped it. So keep reading, friend!

I bet you weren’t expecting such a large package to show up at your door. I hope you like it. I tried to think of something unique for you this year. I definitely think I found one.

So, I learned that one of my coworkers is an artist. A painter, actually. He showed me his Instagram one day when it came up in conversation. It’s only his hobby, but his work is amazing.

I was only a little bit joking when I said, “If you ever need a model…”

He said, “I have a lot more, just stuff I can’t put on Insta.”

Anyway, there was a work party sometime after that. You know how work parties go! Everyone gets way too sloppy drunk. After some of the lightweights went home, a handful of us ended up back at his place. It was me, John (the artist), Samantha, Greg, and Blake.

He had so many cool paintings everywhere — all his! Some were very twisted and dark, and some would definitely be x-rated.

We sat in his drawing room, smoking weed and drinking wine.

There was a large chair draped in sheets for his models and several Polaroid cameras around the room. He said those were so he could snap a pic of his model from whatever corner of the room he was in. He said he paints from the photos, and “the visions” he sees.

We were all sitting on the floor, except for John who was on a stool next to one of his easels. He said, “No one wants to sit in the special chair?”

Blake said, “I’d pass out and then open my eyes to some perverted painting of myself!”

And Samantha said, “Aww, no one want to be in your paintings, John.”

Before I could stop myself, I said, “I do!” I immediately panicked and was like, “No, just kidding.” I was drunk and high! But the rest of them started chanting, “Do it! Do it! Sit in the chair! Sit in the chair!” I couldn’t not!

John put a giant sketchpad on his easel, and told everyone to spread out and grab a Polaroid camera. To me, he said, “Amy, you’ve seen my paintings. If you are to be the model, you know what to do.”

And, of course I did. I stood and gave a look around at all of my co-workers. I barely knew Samantha and Blake! Greg was new, for heaven’s sake. But fuck it! I stripped off every piece of clothing and stood there naked in front of them all. A flash went off. I was seriously turned on. Another flash went off. Flash whirr!

“I’m starting to see something,” John said, tapping his pencil against the paper.

He asked me to sit again. I did, and I kept my legs spread. I touched myself and I was wet. I could see that Greg had a hard-on. He was standing almost in front of me, but just a bit to my right. I shifted slightly so my open legs faced him, and moved my fingers in circles over my wet pussy. I was giving him the show, but fully aware of the flash and whirr of the cameras from the others. This was so scandalous, I thought. And that turned me on.

John said, “You may interact with the model.” He said it to everyone, but I locked eyes on Greg, and put my hand out to him. He approached me shyly, but when he was close enough, I took his hand and put it between my legs and pressed him into my wetness. Flash whirr. I moaned. I stretched my arm back, and felt hands caress up from my wrists to my armpit. It was Samantha, and she stepped beside me, leaned in and caressed my neck with her lips.

Flash whirr. I was rubbing Greg’s hard cock through his pants. Samantha was gently teasing my nipples. She was topless now. Blake was jerking off watching, with one hand still taking pictures, ripping out the film with his teeth and flinging them to the floor. It was like something had taken over all of us.

Samantha moved in front now, knelt in front of me and ran her soft tongue up my labia and found my clit. Greg had removed his pants, and his cock was harder and larger than I could have imagined. I brought him into my mouth, while I was inside of Samantha’s.

John was furiously scribbling, flipping the page, and scribbling more. Flash whirr. Samantha felt so good. The cock in my mouth couldn’t stifle my ecstatic cries.

Samantha sat back, and I changed position, kneeling in front of the chair, my head on the seat. I looked at Greg and raised my ass as invitation. He wasted no time sliding his huge dick into me, and he went to work. Flash whirr! He pulled out just in time, and I swear his cum shot across the room.

I turned over and looked at Blake. I said, “Blake, I know you’ve wanted to fuck me. I promise you this is your only chance, so get over here.”

He slid me to the floor, raised my legs, and fucked the fucking hell out of me!

Peter!!! I swear I could not believe that I was the centerpiece of a fuckfest with my co-workers! It was exhilarating! I don’t think any of us expected this. What a fucking fantastic work party!

Two weeks later, John asked me to stop by. The painting was finished. And, oh my god. It was brilliant and hot and very twisted. Just like I expected.

And so for your birthday, I’m giving you a really fucking hot story, a really fucking cool painting OF ME… AND, surprise, there is a third gift!

When you unwrap the painting, look on the backside. There’s another envelope taped to the back of the canvas.

Inside are the two dozen or so Polaroids taken throughout that evening. I know you are just going to love those! Maybe more than the painting!

Happy Birthday!

Love,

Amy

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/mj533a/art_fuck_work_party_fmmf